


Pendragon and the Dragonlord

by ticketyboo00



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Balinor Lives (Merlin), Balinor and Uther were best friends, Canon Compliant, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Good Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin pendragon, One Shot, Pre-Canon, Royal Merlin (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:48:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27580250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticketyboo00/pseuds/ticketyboo00
Summary: History has always been this: the Pendragon and the Dragonlord. Let's take a moment to think about our forefathers.Balinor and Uther take a moment to think about the future.“Did you hear Gaius got engaged?”Balinor immediately whips his head to look at Uther, “No! When? How? Who? Why?”
Relationships: Balinor & Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Balinor/Hunith (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Ygraine de Bois/Uther Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 97





	Pendragon and the Dragonlord

**Author's Note:**

> Unfinished. Just a story about friends before a tragedy. I had intended to make this a longer work but I gave up. If someone wants to finish it I'd be more than happy to support.

The winds of time blows across the scene, shifting to the rooftops of Camelot. The Pendragon and the Dragonlord are lying on their backs, staring up at the stars. Camelot is quiet below, and the night is dark and comforting. Uther and Balinor lay in companionable silence before Uther breaks it.

“Did you hear Gaius got engaged?”

Balinor immediately whips his head to look at Uther, “No! When? How? Who? Why?”

Uther smiles, “Yes he did. To answer your other questions: This morning, he proposed, his co-worker Alice-“

“The blonde one?”

“-yes, and because they love each other.”

Balinor scoffs. 

“So, guess what that means,” Uther’s grin turns a little bit feral.

“What?” Balinor looks put out, like he knows where this is going. 

“You have less game than GAUIS. Nerdy, bookworm, wimpy Gauis has managed to get himself a woman before you.”

Balinor groans loudly into the night air and hits Uther on the shoulder. Uther chuckles, a quiet, bright sound, and grins up into the sky. The sky almost seemed to smile back at the two friends. 

“Does that mean there’s going to be some mini Gauises running around soon?” 

Uther shoots Balinor a look of pure horror, a look most familiar to those watching in instances when the king had seen magic. 

Balinor keeps talking, “D’ya think they’d be born with glasses or do they get them later on? Maybe it’s something you earn after you’ve bored your first person to death mmph-“ before he is cut off by Uthers hand covering his mouth. 

“Don’t you dare paint such a horrifying picture,” the king says in a mock-serious tone, “or I’ll forbid you from talking.”

Balinor grins cheekily at him, “You can try.” Both men chuckle softly. 

“Have you ever wanted children, Balinor?”

The mood shifts suddenly, from one of light-hearted teasing to something with more gravity. 

The Dragonlord sighs softly, “More than anything.”

“Really?”

Balinor makes a noise of confirmation, “Mhm. I’d want a son. That’s how Dragonlord powers are passed, from father to son. I want to teach him everything I know. Swordsmanship, wyvern riding. He’ll have my family’s gift of extraordinary magic. When he’s born, I’d give him a carving. It’s a Dragonlord tradition.”

Uther looks curious, “What sort of carving?”

“When a Dragonlord’s wife is pregnant, he spends nine months carving a block of wood into a dragon. The positions of wings and the color of the scales all mean different things, symbolizing a father's hope in his son.”

“That’s beautiful,” the king said softly. 

“And when he’s twelve, he’d tame his own wyvern. Dragons aren’t fit for riding, you see, but wyverns are animals, the same as horses.

“It’s a test of courage and character. You select a mount and climb on its back. The longer you can remain without being thrown, the more impressive an achievement. Then I’d spend the next days with him teaching him how to break a wyvern.”

Uther interrupted, “Same as a horse?”

“Same as a horse, but a bit more complicated with the wings and all.”

“I think you’ll be a good father someday, my friend,” Uther said. 

Balinor snorts, “Have to find myself a wife first don’t I?”

“I’ll find some foreign lady to marry you off to, don’t worry. The gods know you’re incapable of finding a wife yourself. Though I suppose she’d have to have enough backbone to deal with a Dragonlord for a son won’t she?”

“Don’t get any ideas about marrying me off, Pendragon. And besides, men are not Dragonlords until their father's death.”

Uther twists to glance at him, “Really?”

“Mhm. The tragedy is that fathers will never see their sons become Dragonlords in their own right. It’s a challenge you face alone. Facing your first dragon-“ Balinor exhales “- is a trial. And it’s done alone. All you can do is hope you’ve done a good enough job raising him.”

Uther is quiet before he says, “It’s like being king in that way I suppose.”

The Dragonlord notices the shift in conversation. “Yea, I guess it is.”

“I became king through conquest. It has been my mission from the moment I understood what a king was. Kingship was something I chose, something I fought for.” Uther pauses, organizing his thoughts into sentences. Fears and fleeting bits of emotion turn into words to share with his friend in the hopes it would not burden him anymore. “How could I force a child to become a prince? And then a king?”

Uther’s eyes are wide, pleading. “Is it fair to bring a child into this world as my son?”

“Oh, Uther.” Balinor’s voice is soft. “I do not think you will be a bad father.”

“I never said that,” Uther snaps. 

“But that’s what you meant, isn’t it?”

Uther slumps against the castle tiles. His neck hangs back, resting against the roof tiles. The word is barely more than a whisper, “Yes.”

“Uther, you are my oldest and dearest friend. I know you would do anything for your child, and so will Ygraine. I think you’ll be an excellent father, leading by example. He’d be a knight, a general, a good man, because you are a good man. You need not worry.”

“I’m not worried about that. I worry that I cannot reconcile being a father with being king. I worry that I will treat my son like a commander to a sentinel rather than a father to a son.”

Balinor’s lips twist into a wry grin, “Very introspective of you, Uther. You’ll make mistakes. But that’s what your wife is for, what I’m here for. We’ll help you. You won’t raise this boy alone.”

Uther relaxes, some tension leaking out of his body, before it stiffens with another thought, “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Balinor’s eyebrows draw together, but before he can speak, Uther continues. “I know you. I know you’ll be a good father. And if your son is half the man you are I know he’d be an amazing king-“

“Uther what-?”

“I want to make your son my heir. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. A Dragonlord with the Ambrosias line of magic would make a formidable king. He’d have you for a father, and I would just need to teach him how to be king,” Uther finishes to the stunned ears of those listening, present and future. 

“Uther, I don’t know what to say. I’m incredibly honored. But- you do not want your own kin on the throne? Who would wear the silver crown?”

“Obviously of Ygraine and I have a son, he would be my heir. But if I don’t, I want your son on the throne. He would be my kin, my nephew, because we are blood brothers. I am the Pendragon, so he would belong to me. As for the crown-“ Uther smiles as he’s struck by a moment of creative genius “-it would be his to wear as well. A gold-and-silver crown. A Pendragon and a Dragonlord. King.”

Balinor is stunned. 

“A gold-and-silver crown,” he echos softly. 

It’s a convincing vision, and strategically sound. A Dragonlord King would keep Camelot safe, and his descendents would have no squabbles over inheritance, whoever had the power would get the crown. 

Historically, kings have been quite busy. A king for an uncle rather than a father would separate the tricky relationships princes so often experience. Not to mention, Balinor was touched Uther thought so highly of him. 

“I am honored, my king.” The moment calls for respect. The proclamation Uther made was a big one. “Whether my son sits on the throne or serves your son I will be proud of him either way. I’ll speed up the search for a wife.”

“Not too fast my friend, or all the women will have to run to avoid you.”

Balinor laughs, a sharp sound, laced with tension from the last conversation. 

“If you had a son, what would you name him?” Balinor asks. 

“Something strong. Befitting of a king. Unmovable as stone, as capable as a bear. Know any names like that?”

Balinor thinks for a moment, recalling all the druids taught him about names and their symbolism. A name can pre-determine your destiny, can influence other’s thoughts of you, shape how you perceive yourself. A king must be tied to the land, foreign names limit a peasants affinity for their king. “How about Arthur?” 

“Prince Arthur,” Uther muses, “King Arthur. Arthur Pendragon. Very nice indeed. I like the way it sounds.”

Balinor makes a pleased noise before Uther turns the question on him. “And you? What’s the name of the man who will wear Camelot’s silver crown?”

The Dragonlord’s head had long been filled with dreams of a dark haired young boy beside him, but never had he put a name to the face. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. 

“Names are important. What sort of qualities would you want in a son? What details would you give the carved dragon for him?”

Balinor exhales loudly, slightly pleased Uther had remembered his comment on Dragonlord traditions. “I’d want him to be free, a creature of the sky, born on the back of the wind. Clever, tricky, but not scorned for it, loved for it. Loyal. That’s what I’d want in a son.”

Uther shoots Balinor a look, because clearly Balinor has thought about this a lot. 

“I know!” Balinor exclaims suddenly. “Dragon. I’ll name him Dragon!”

“Dragon the Dragonlord? Dragon Pendragon the Dragonlord of Camelot? That’s ridiculous!” Uther, cries and rightly so. Never before in the history of the Dragonlords had such a terrible name been suggested. 

Balinor looks unperturbed, unaware he had made history as the worst name suggested for a Dragonlord ever. “Okay. How about Drakon?”

Uther turns a withering stare into his friend, “Balinor. Does Drakon mean ‘Dragon’ in the dragon tongue?”

The Dragonlord blushes and gives a sheepish shrug. 

“Unbelievable,” Uther mutters, “I have an idiot for a Dragonlord.” He raises his voice to the level they had been speaking at before to lecture his friend, “Your son, my possible heir, a future Dragonlord will not be named Dragon or any other ridiculous variation. Is that clear?”

Balinor pouts, “You just don’t like my ideas.”

“That's because they’re terrible ideas. You were so clever with the Arthur thing, can’t you come up with a decent name for your own son?”

“Hawke?” Balinor suggests. 

“I say no dragon names and you move to birds?” asks an incredulous Uther. “Unbelievable,” he repeats, “Unbelievable.”

“No, Hawke with an -e at the end. It’s a respectable name.”

“First of all, Hawke is often a surname. Second of all, it’s terrible, third, I’ve never met a Hawke I’ve liked, fourth, it’s terrible, fifth-“

“Okay okay!” Balinor throws up his hands in mock surrender. “If you’re so mighty and wise, you find a name that meets all my specifications and yours.”

“Challenge accepted.” Uther screws his eyes shut and covers his chin with a hand in a ‘thinking’ position. “Free. Sky. Loyalty. I’m thinking of a hunting bird. More specifically, a falcon. I had one when I was younger, the most loyal bird I ever knew. Stayed with me until the day I died. Fast, tricky hunter. Snuck up on his prey. Clever, like you wanted.

Uther smiles, “I’ve got it. Merlin. After the merlin falcons. Merlin Ambrosius. Merlin Pendragon.”

Balinor stares, opened mouthed at his king, “It’s perfect!”

“Of course it is. I’m a genius.”

Balinor groans, “Shut up.”

“Merlin is a much better name than Dragon or Hawke. Honestly, what were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t! I didn’t know what to say.”

Uther chuckles at Balinor’s distress, but is content to let the issue lie. 

***

The scene shifts. Balinor is seated at a desk. It’s recognizable as a room in Camelot, a lord’s room. The only sounds are the scratching of a quill on paper and the crackling of the fireplace. Balinor sighs softly and presses the palm of his hand to his forehead. Something difficult is present in the paperwork, that much is clear. 

Those watching had never seen a sorcerer act so normal, doing something as mundane as paperwork. It was disturbing.

The door cracks open behind the desk, and Uther Pendragon walks in. Balinor throws a look over his shoulder, then returns his gaze to his work. 

“Hello and come right in why don’t you?” Balinor says sarcastically. 

Uther looks distinctly uncomfortable, but Balinor hasn’t noticed yet. Uther pulls out a chair in front of Balinor, which gets his attention. 

Balinor finishes writing, then glances up at the king now sitting across from him. He sets down his quill and squints at Uther, who has yet to say anything. 

“Can I help you?” Balinor asks. 

It was the right question. “Howmuchdoyouknowaboutmagic?” Uther blurts. Balinor blinks once, unused to Uther’s uncharacteristic outburst. 

“A fair bit. Seeing as, I’m, you know, a warlock.” Balinor leaned back in his chair, “Why? What’s brought this on?”

Uther opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “I have been thinking about ways magic might be used.”

Balinor just stared, not comprehending, “Um. Yes?”

“Hush, let me finish. I was wondering if magic may be used to… create life.”

“Course it can.” Balinor cupped his hands together and raised them to his mouth. He blew gently on his hands, eyes flashed golden. As he opened his hands, a delicate little butterfly flew out. The action took only moments. 

“That butterfly is as real as any other you’d find who was born normally.” Balinor raised an eyebrow, “But I doubt you came here to discuss butterflies.”

“Indeed I did not.” The butterfly rested on Uther’s shoulder, studying the room. “This is a more… personal issue.”

Balinor made a gesture that basically read as get on with it then. 

“Ygraine and I are not able to have children.” The butterfly turned to Uther, as if it was shocked by this revelation. 

“Oh, Uther, I’m so sorry.” Balinor reached over to grasp Uther’s shoulder, but Uther pulled away. Balinor retracted his hand. 

“I need to know if magic is capable of assisting with that… issue. There are very few people I’m willing to discuss this with, my friend, you must understand.” 

Balinor sighed. “I understand. Theoretically, such a thing is possible. Creating a human life from conception would not be difficult, but it would be costly.”

“Costly?”

“Magic comes at a cost. A life for a life, a death for a death. Big things come at cost. And a male heir, a future king, that’s a big deal.” The fire snapped and popped in the silence. Uther broke it. 

“I saw you make a life just now. That didn’t have a cost. Nothing died or wilted.”

Balinor smiled, “That’s different. A butterfly's life is inconsequential, especially for the purpose I made it for, which was beauty. The magnitude of different lifeforms is not an exact science.”

“But my son’s life, that would come at a cost? What would it be?”

A sigh, “I don’t know. I’m a warrior, not a scholar. You’d be better off asking Gauis or that fiancé of his, Alice. If you’re serious about this, Uther, I’d also ask that creepy High Priestess, Nimueh.” 

“I am serious about this. It is the continuation of my kingdom at stake.”

“If you’re truly that concerned, Uther, I’d be happy to get married tomorrow, just point me in the direction of a strategic marriage. A Dragonlord heir is still on the table.”

Uther shook his head, “I appreciate your loyalty, my friend, but I would not ask that of you. You deserve to marry someone you love, just as I love Ygraine. My child, conceived with magic is the middle ground I have been searching for.”

“Right, but make sure you ask for the costs. If you don’t weigh them, it will haunt you later. Talk to Ygaine, see what she says.”

Uther stood suddenly, “I am the King. Magic will bow to me.” He turned to exit, and opened the door before turning to Balinor once again. “You will speak nothing of this conversation.” Not a request from a friend, but a command from a king. 

“Of course, my Lord.” 

The door slammed shut. Balinor tried to return to his paperwork, but couldn’t shake the feeling something momentous had just happened. A shiver traced down his spine. He elected to ignore it.


End file.
